


Thank God For Whiskey and a Life of Sin

by doctor__idiot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Dean, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Plot What Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Slight Pain Kink, Spit As Lube, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor__idiot/pseuds/doctor__idiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Library table sex. There is no other plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank God For Whiskey and a Life of Sin

**Author's Note:**

> There is no plot here. This is nothing but shameless, shameless porn. Because I felt like it.  
> And because the last thing I wrote didn’t have a happy ending and I needed one.
> 
> Disclaimer: These two don’t belong to me, nor does anything else. Idea’s mine, though. Unbeta'd.

Dean protested with a loud noise when Sam slammed him against the table in the library. Pushed him onto it, hands unyielding again his thighs, spreading them apart without finesse.

“You always do this, Dean, why the hell do you always do this.” There wasn’t a question mark, it wasn’t a question, it was Sam giving free reign to his anger.

“I didn’t —,” _Do anything_ , Dean tried to say but it got stuck in his throat when Sam bit his neck hard and he cried out. His hands scrambled for Sam’s shoulder but Sam yanked Dean’s hands away, pinning them above his head when he pressed him flat against the table top. 

Sam had stripped him of his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans before Dean could catch his breath. He flexed his wrist but Sam’s hold was solid and the flare of heat that slammed down his spine was entirely unwelcome.

He was a sick, sick bastard for getting off on this.

Sam’s mouth descended, licking, biting and teasing, hands following his lips along the same path, and Dean tried not to writhe, realizing his brother was marking him, branding him.

“Sam.” It wasn’t much more than a gasp and Sam wasn’t supposed to have this effect on him, there hadn’t been anything about that in the little brother handbook. 

“Jesus Christ!” He arched up off the wood when Sam latched onto the extremely sensitive area on the inside of his thigh. Sam pulled his pants down unceremoniously, taking Dean’s boxer briefs with him before he swallowed down Dean’s cock in one.

Dean bit into his fist to stop himself from screaming out. He might have tasted blood but he didn’t really register anything other than the hot, wet heaven that was his brother’s mouth.

The blow-job was sloppy and fast and Sam was usually more careful but the occasional nick of teeth was just on the right side of painful and Dean probably had a bit more of a kink than he had originally thought.

Sam was going too fast, pulling away from Dean’s cock, tongue traveling lower, making Dean’s head swim with sensation and anticipation. Sam licked over his hole, parting the furled muscle with his tongue, licking and fucking _nibbling_ and when he started jacking Dean along with it, Dean did scream.

Sam’s hand on his stomach held him down, the other on his thigh holding him open, and Dean wanted to touch so badly, bury his hands in Sam’s hair, dig his fingers into his shoulder, but he knew he wasn’t allowed right now. Sometimes it was scary how much power Sam had over him.

A few more flicks of Sam’s expert tongue and Dean was coming so hard so fucking fast his vision blurred for more than just a second. Sam stroked him through it right until the point of _too much_.

Dean was too out of it to realize what Sam was doing and by the time he did Sam had already spread him open wider and was pushing into him without a condom or anything other than Sam’s saliva and Dean’s come to ease the way before Dean had the chance to complain.

He said Sam’s name but it broke off into a moan and he wasn’t sure what predominated, pain or pleasure, so damn sensitive after an orgasm and Sam was relentless until Dean has taken him in his entirety.

Sam hadn’t even bothered to undress. T-shirt slightly damp with sweat, jeans merely unzipped and sitting low on his hips, his hair falling into his eyes. It might have been the hottest fucking thing Dean had ever seen.

His hands held Dean’s hips still, no matter how much he wanted to toss, move against Sam, writhe and moan and scream. And he couldn’t even fucking _touch_ him.

“Please, Sam,” he pleaded hoarsely and he could barely fathom that this was supposed his voice.

“Please what, Dean?” Sam’s voice was breathless, which Dean was more than a little pleased to hear, and there was an underlying growling sound to it. It should definitely not be as insanely hot as Dean thought it was.

“Please kiss me, I need —,” Dean’s mouth fell slack, words wiped from his mind and his tongue when Sam rolled his hips, not quite thrusting but grinding against him and he was so deep Dean swore he could feel him under his _ribs_ and he needed him to move _right the fuck now_.

To his surprise Sam actually obliged both of his requests, even though one had been silent. He leaned down, first biting at the corner of Dean’s mouth, then chuckled when Dean shoved up against him, kissing him deeply and thoroughly and it should be disgusting, knowing where Sam’s mouth had been recently but it wasn’t and Dean was so so screwed.

Sam snapped his hips in short, fast thrusts, to his best abilities in their position, Dean’s legs bracketing his hips a little too tightly. It was enough, though, Dean’s body jolting on every stroke and he was achingly hard again against Sam’s stomach, every one of their movements rubbing his cock just right. He didn’t hold back and came for the second time in half an hour, all over both their bellies.

The oversensitivity was going to kill him, he was sure of it, and he was so close to shoving Sam off and finishing him by hand but Sam’s grip on him was too strong to allow for it and he unwillingly clenched around Sam. It was kind of worth it when Sam moaned against his neck and shoved in hard, stilling and coming inside of him.

His brother was heavy on top of him but Dean was fine with that for the moment. He was too tired to move out from under him either way and he finally allowed himself to put his hands on Sam, pushing under his T-shirt, running fingertips over hard ribs and tracing along muscle, sneaking into the back of Sam’s pants and when he could get a handful he squeezed. Sam laughed against his chest.

They were going to have to move at some point in the near future because they were already sticking together and Dean hated the feeling of come dripping out of him but right now even that was sort of hot and he was exhausted.

Sam pressed a kiss against his shoulder and it stood in such a contrast to before Dean couldn’t help the smile that arose.

It spread into a grin when he heard Sam mutter, “I knew you were making me jealous on purpose.”

“I was,” he admitted shamelessly, “I didn’t care for that guy. He wasn’t even that attractive. Not like you, stud.”

Sam slapped his side hard enough to sting and Dean laughed, continued more seriously, “I wanted to tease you. I’d never’ve let him fuck me.”

His brothers fingers tightened briefly on his flanks. Possessive bastard. “I know that,” he said honestly, “I can’t help it, though. What I don’t get is why you’re riling me up in the first place.”

Dean was proud of himself for not flinching. “’Cause I’m your big brother and it’s fun.”

“No.” Sam studied him and, yeah, that wasn’t disconcerting at all. “That’s not it.”

Dean generally liked to be the center of attention but he wasn’t good at dealing with scrutiny, especially when it came from Sam.

The shit-eating grin that now formed on Sam’s face wasn’t helping the situation. “I see. Didn’t peg you for a kinky kinda guy, Dean.”

“Oh please, you totally did.”

Sam considered him, smirking. “Maybe I was testin’ the boundaries a little.”

Dean deliberately didn’t mention that there was no such thing when it came to Sam because that was _scary_ , instead he ran his fingers through Sam’s hair. 

He confessed, “I’ve been wanting to get you like that,” without even know why he did. It wasn’t like he was the sharing type.

Sam snorted, “You have a fetish.”

“I’m not ashamed to admit that.”

“Yes, you are. Because you are incapable of expressing what you want. Unless it’s food or booze.”

Dean blew out a breath. “Hey, I’m still talking, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are.”

If Dean hadn’t known better he would have said that Sam was looking at him with something like awe in his eyes, and not merely the little-brother kind of awe that Dean had never quite gotten used to but still soaked up every second of it.

Dean would do just about anything to keep that look on Sam’s face so he said, “I know I tease you a lot about being my over-grown little brother but I love it. That you’re so much bigger than me.” He ran his hands over Sam’s shoulders, emphasizing his point. “I can’t get enough of it, the whole standing-on-tiptoes-to-kiss-you thing included, and that probably makes me such a huge girl but who cares?”

Not Sam, apparently, because he was looking at Dean as if he wanted to eat him, in the best way possible, and Dean would be down with that but he wasn’t sure he could get hard again any time soon. Or ever, for that matter.

He let Sam kiss him, lick into his mouth, framing Sam’s face with his hands and if they were toeing the edge of chick-flick moments here, nobody mentioned it. 

He was thinking they needed to get up soon because he was beginning to feel cold, sweat drying on his skin, and there was come pretty much everywhere and they had to _eat_ at this table at some point. Sam was so cleaning this up.

Then Sam’s hands shoved under his thighs and lifted him off the table, hoisting him up. Dean wrapped his legs around his middle and it was probably a lot less effortless than it seemed but Dean still granted him the credit.

“Now you’re just showing off,” he grinned into Sam’s mouth and Sam bit his lip to shut him up. Needless to say, it didn’t work. “’s because of what I said, ain’t it?”

Sam admitted, “Possibly,” and actually carried Dean down the hallway, all the way to their room. Technically it was Dean’s room but Sam slept there as well, more often than not, and it was nicer if Dean might say so himself.

When they were finally tucked into an actual bed, Dean breathed a sigh of relief. The table in the library, as hot as it had been, was not very comfortable to have sex on.

“Grandpa,” Sam scolded him jokingly, reading his mind in that annoying habit of his.

Dean stripped Sam out of his clothes because he wouldn’t have being the only one naked here and let Sam wrap his arms around him, pulling Dean halfway on top of him. The boneless exhaustion that was spreading through his whole body, right to the tip of his toes, made him pliable and generous and Sam knew it. 

Dean would probably shove Sam away in the middle of the night because he was too hot — seriously, his brother had enough body heat for three — but for now he was content with cuddling.


End file.
